When Trouble Found Me
by closetCullen
Summary: I consider myself very, very fortunate. There are very few people, I think, who have seen what I’ve seen, and even fewer of those who’ve lived to tell about it." Rated T for mild launguage and potentially disturbing ideas.


A/N I challenged myself to write a story about Twilight vampires without ever actually using the word "vampire" in the story, and without using any of the characters already in the books. Not a difficult challenge, but not exactly easy, either. I came through it with this little piece, and thought I might as well share it.

I am proudly in possession of a copy of Twilight, but I do not by any means own the rights to it.

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When Trouble Found Me

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I consider myself very, very fortunate. There are very few people, I think, who have seen what I've seen, and even fewer of those who've lived to tell about it. I would guess Stephanie Meyer isn't one, because if she were, she probably wouldn't have written her immensely popular book series. Oh, don't get me wrong, she's quite accurate in her descriptions – astonishingly so. But I think someone else must have told her, because otherwise she wouldn't have published it for the world to see. If she'd done that, she'd be dead by now, particularly with the way she names names. In fact, even as it is, I'm surprised she isn't. Unless she's one of them herself, but that wouldn't make sense, either. It's bad for them to be known, and they don't like it much when someone, living or otherwise, betrays them.

I'm taking quite a risk myself, actually, in writing this. I'll probably mysteriously disappear in a few days and never be seen again, but this does need to be said: they do exist. Be warned – not that there's an awful lot you can do about it. If they want you bad enough, they'll have you. Still, if it were me, I would want to know, so… consider this a public service message of sorts. When you're afraid to go out in the night, don't. Period. Because there probably _is_ something out there.

I saw one, once. I was on my way back in, so there was really nothing I could do. That's probably a good thing, because if I'd been on my way out the door, I probably would have quietly panicked and run back inside. If I'd made it back, I would certainly have called security – and then an awful lot of people who are currently alive would have died that night instead.

I was on the way back from work, and it was approximately 11:43 PM. I had just checked the time on my cell phone before getting off the bus. Walking even a block down the street at night in Chicago waving a cell phone is not really a good idea. The campus was in sight of the bus stop, but still far enough away to make it risky. In fact, I was really supposed to have an escort, except it didn't seem worth it to me to wait for one to arrive. That would probably be just as dangerous – or so I thought.

Chicago never gets completely dark; the closest it ever gets is a sort of artificial twilight, lit by the street lights and car headlights and billboard lights and lights from shops and lights from windows thirty stories up. But on my campus, they've planted trees and shrubs around the dorms, which means there are a few little corners and caves of greenery where darkness almost exists. One of these is right on the corner of the building I must walk past to get to my residence hall. I'd often thought that it would make a good place for a wallet-snatcher to hide and ambush someone on their way in at night. But I was certainly not expecting to see one of _these_ here.

As I approached the corner, I thought there was something unusual about the way the light was hitting there. A lump of fear shot up my throat, and it probably saved my life, because otherwise, I would have just walked past, and I think that's what he was waiting for. But instead I stopped and stared at the strange, luminous white object that seemed to be concealed within the bush. It would have been the perfect moment for the others to sneak up and take me, if there had been others. But then, it seems to me they would have difficulty working well together – but that's another story.

Pardon me for being so easily distracted - I was speaking of the ghostly silhouette behind the bush. He must have been used to hunting in a different manner, because otherwise he would not have made the mistake of exposing his skin to the light that way – but I'm glad he did. I finally worked up the nerve to move, not taking my eyes off the corner, because I knew _something_ was there; and even though I still didn't know what it was, I could tell by the paralyzing fear that it was up to no good.

I edged along cautiously, staring, curiosity battling with maddening fear, when suddenly, I hit the correct angle with the light, and two crimson points of light pierced the shadows. I recognized them at once as retinal reflections. From eyes.

Red eyes.

Now, I don't know about you, but there is little I find creepier than a pair of disemodied eyes shining reflections at me, especially if they're an unnatural color, like these red ones.

What had red eyes?

These days, you don't even have to have read Meyer to know, and I had.

They're _real?_

_Crap._ I'm dead.

Might as well lie down now and tilt my head back, save the thing some time and effort. Unless this one was a wrist feeder. But…

…They're _real?_

I smiled a little in spite of myself, because if this was real, then maybe the good kind was real, too. And that was nice to know, even though I was about to die.

I stood there for the longest time, frozen in terror, not knowing what to do. When would he come at me? Should I try to run? No, too far, I'd never make it. Would it hurt? How long would it take? Would he snap my neck first, or just start right in? Which would be worse? Would the damn thing just _bite_ me already and end my suspense?

And he just stood there, watching me from the depths of the shrubbery. Something changed about the red lights, as if he were squinting, narrowing his eyes. He obviously knew that I had seen him – had known all along, probably. Now he'd _have_ to kill me, just to keep his secret from spreading.

After a while, I couldn't stand it any more. I had to do _something._ So I did the most idiotic, irrational, impossible thing I could have done –

I walked _toward_ him.

He startled, skittering back two very quick steps into the bushes. I almost laughed, because…. I had startled _him?_ Obviously, his talent was not mind-reading. But then he steadied himself as I crept toward him, closer and closer, until his retinal reflections dulled and looked something more like eyes in the yellow-orange light from the sodium lamp over the residence hall door. Except his eyes were bright red, by which I guessed he was not desperately thirsty. He'd probably fed several times already that night, and was just planning to top off there – another factor in the miraculous preservation of my life.

I kept walking while he held his ground, until I came to the base of the berm he stood on, looking warily down at me. The berm was enclosed by a retaining wall, perhaps two and a half feet high, so he towered over me with his already-greater height. I stepped up onto the berm and stood a foot and a half away, so that he was only about a foot taller than me. And there I was, face to face with a nightmare – a very beautiful nightmare. I won't describe him, because of my promise, and also for my own safety, but let me just tell you that he was exquisitely handsome. He made all those gorgeous, airbrushed actors that young girls worship look like the boorish clowns most of them are.

I stared at him, and he stared at me. Nether of us moved, and only one of us breathed. I was so close I could feel the chill from his skin. Finally, I spoke.

"Would you hurry up and get on with this, please? I'm getting cold." It was a bold, reckless statement, but I had a feeling bargaining for my life wouldn't get me anywhere, and I knew trying to get away certainly wouldn't.

It surprised him. His marble face shifted in confusion. Probably most of his victims didn't walk right up to him and demand to be slaughtered quickly. It emboldened me.

"I know what you are and what you're going to do with me, so you might as well start. I don't like to be kept waiting."

He frowned in astonishment, his eyebrows wrinkling delicately.

"Look, I know this is probably not what you expected, but I know how to face facts, and I have sufficient facts about you to know that panicking will do me no good. I can't run away from you, I can't hide away, I can't trick you, I can't overpower you, and I can't call for help. And if I could, you'd probably kill and drink them, too!"

He looked annoyed at my enumeration of his capabilities, but then his lips curved in something like amusement. And that annoyed _me._

"So, as I was saying, please don't make this any longer than necessary. Go ahead. I won't resist. Like I said, it wouldn't do any good. Thirsty? Then come on, drink up!"

His face went serious, thoughtful. And then, slowly, he shook his head. No.

"Why not?"

No. He shook his head again.

A rather funny though formed in my head. "Can you talk? You're not mute, are you?"

That smile curved his lips again. "No." His voice was made of velvet darker than darkness itself.

"You choose not to, then. Interesting choice," I said, trying to cover how shaken I was. We stood in silence again, staring at each other.

"Well, if you're not going to... erm… _drink_ me… I guess I'd better be on my way. I have homework to do."

He smiled in a way that was highly amused and deathly solemn at the same time. Then a worried look crossed his face. I studied him for a moment, wondering what could possibly worry _him._ Then it hit me, and an odd sort of pity flooded me. Pity for my hunter.

"Don't worry," I whispered, as solemn as he was. "I won't tell. No one will know what you are. I'm not sure I can keep from mentioning that your kind exist, but I won't describe you personally, and you're the only one I've ever seen."

He looked vulnerable and frightened and unsure.

"I promise," I added softly.

He looked stoically gratified.

"Oh. And you might want to keep back from the light next time. You were too easy to see," I added, trying to lighten the mood. He almost laughed.

"Well, it was delightful to meet you, but as I said, I've got to be going. I hope you have a pleasant evening," I said, politely. I didn't want to push my incredible luck. Turning away from him to step back down from the berm, I was surprised to find him there in front of me. I knew he could move that fast, but what was he doing?

Tentatively, nervously, he held out his hand to me. I was unsure what to do; it looked like he was…

I watched his face as I reached out my hand and put it in his cold white one. He smiled a little, and gently helped me down from the berm.

Well, _that_ was a little odd. "Thank you!" I said in surprise, a bit too loudly. He pursed his lips and touched them with a finger – _shhh –_ and smiled conspiratorially, like a child sharing a secret. I returned the smile as best I could, although I'm sure I looked like an idiot to him, and then went on my way to the residence hall, exulting in life and thrilled by my encounter with the mystical. I threw a glance back his direction as I reached the door, but he was gone.

I have never seen him since, nor have I seen another of his kind. But I know my experience was real, and that _he_ was real, and that is assurance enough that there are more of them. They're out there.

Please don't go looking for them, though. My experience was one-of-a-kind, unheard of. I am still not sure how I got so incredibly lucky. I know that it will not happen next time I run into one – perhaps not even if it's the same one. They are designed to kill, and we are their natural diet. If anything, you should be more careful, knowing they exist.

Take this as a warning; there's reason to be afraid of the dark. Don't go anywhere alone at night. If you feel inexplicably afraid – you should be.

I should have died that night. The one I met just happened not to be particularly thirsty or motivated to take me. Most of the time when they hunt you, they are both. Seriously, don't go looking for them. I know some of you will rush out the door as soon as you finish reading this and go chasing after them, hoping to find one and see if they're really as beautiful as everyone says. If you do find one, you won't be disappointed, but it will be the last thing you ever see.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: _Don't look for trouble, because_ they _will surely find you._


End file.
